In The End
by SoraGirl
Summary: As the end of the war draws closer and only a few survivors remain, Hermione and Ron have to make a desicion. Should they die or should they run? Oneshot ficlet, please R&R :


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the lyrics from Our Lady of Peace- "Loved You All" the inspiration for this fic, and also, part of the dialogue :)  
  
In The End  
  
The group, bleeding, broken, and exhausted, stumbled forward until they reached a familiar sight. Their newly "elected" leader strained her already aching arms to open the heavy door to the castle.  
  
"Go," she told them as soon as they had set foot inside all that was left of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. "Spilt up, take whatever might be of use, and get back here. Death Eaters could have set camp anywhere in the building, so be cautious. This may be our last chance. Alright?"  
  
No one dared answer. The scared faces of 12 or so school children, not soldiers, stared blankly at her, as if asking her to confirm that all they had just seen was real. Most of them Hermione didn't know, but there were a few familiar faces. A bloody Neville and Lavender hoisted up an injured Seamus, several seventh year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs still remained, along with two Slytherins, who perhaps, more courageous then them all, abandoned their classmates to fight along the side of strangers.  
  
Two or three of the younger children were heard whimpering in the awkward silence. New, battle-ready Hermione had no pity for them. Perhaps they weren't ready for the war, but that didn't make a difference. The war was here. She had been forced to watch her own friends fight and die to save some of them. They had better be ready.  
  
"Hurry," she instructed again, keeping her voice gentle, lest they question if they were fighting for the right side. This time, they didn't hesitate to obey. None of them had ever declared Hermione the leader, or even suggested it, but when Harry left to fight Voldemort, she unconsciously assumed command. No one had objected.  
  
She made her way quickly to the dungeons, hoping to find something useful there. She fought an ironic grin. To think, the last time she had hurried down these stairs so quickly, her only fear was being late to Potions class. "Hermione!" Ron called out from behind her, rushing to meet her pace.  
  
"Ron, I told you, we need to spilt up," she insisted, still making her way down the crumbled stairs.  
  
"No way," Ron said, shaking his head as he continued to follow her, "I've already lost one best friend. I'm not losing another."  
  
Hermione suddenly felt her eyes begin to tear. "Ron...we haven't lost Harry, he'll make it out of there; he always does. And if he can't do it by himself, we'll bring in the cavalry."  
  
Ron's laugh dripped with bitter sarcasm. "Fifteen beaten, confused, and terrified teenagers who've spent the last three months fighting and watching their friends die? Yeah, some cavalry."  
  
"It's all we've got Ron," Hermione said. She tried to sound strong. "And besides, they're not just teenagers. They're teenagers that have studied at the greatest school for magic of all time, under the greatest headmaster of it's time. They've made it this far; they'll make it to the end."  
  
By this time, they had reached the potion room. Hermione had been able to easily blast open Snape's lock and was bundling potions into her bag at lightening fast speed.  
  
"Do you really believe that Hermione?" Ron asked, her preoccupied state not doing much convincing. His face hung with sorrow, worry, and insomnia. His voice sounded almost mournful.  
  
"Of course I do Ron!" Hermione snapped, her back still turned, packaging the potions even quicker. A few moments passed when the glass bottles of the potions began to clink more violently. Her hands were shaking so fiercely that she finally dropped a bottle. It burst against the ground, and its contents spilled all over the floor.  
  
"Of I don't Ron!" Hermione whispered, tears gleaming down the sides of her cheek. "Of course I don't! How could I!? Look at us! A bunch of scared kids trying to fight the battle that our teachers, our parents, our friends, have lost? And with what?" she laughed, picking up a half-full bottle that she had packed. "A potion that turns your tongue black when you lie? Dumbledore is dead, Ron. So is Snape, Lupin, Tonks. I saw Professor Trelawney's bones still lying in the Dinner Hall. But what are we suppose to do? Stop fighting? Give up? Run away? No. We have to fight, even if it is a hopeless cause. We have to fight."  
  
Hermione's impassioned speech caused silence once again. She looked at Ron, who stood wordlessly in front of her and then continued with her work.  
  
"Hermione...if we don't make it-" Ron started hesitantly.  
  
"Then we don't make it, but at least we died trying," she interrupted quietly, still working. She didn't feel much like arguing today.  
  
"No," Ron said, eyes filled with doubt and concern. He took a deep breath, knowing he was about to reveal a secret he had kept for almost seven years. "That's not what I meant. What I mean is-if we don't make it...I want you to know that...I've loved you all along. It's sort of like...sunny days that we all ignore because we're all so dumb and self-involved. I know it's crazy and I know I've got bad timing...but I didn't want one of us to die, and you to never have known that. So there it is, now you know. I love you, Hermione. I always have, and I always will. And I guess...that's all I have to say." The words were full of emotions, but his voice was somber and serious. He wasn't trying to convince her of something, he wasn't anxiously waiting her response, he was stating, the cold, hard facts that had been plaguing him for years. Facts he wanted his best friend to know.  
  
Even in the dull light of the dudgeon, Ron saw Hermione's eyes glistening with tears. "Oh Ron," she said softly as she approached him. "You insufferable git. You do have horrible timing." She placed her arms softly around him and squeezed tight, burying her face in to his shoulder.  
  
They needed to move. They needed to fight. They needed to go. They knew what they needed to do, but for once, they didn't care. They didn't move. They couldn't move. Because when the world is falling down around you, the only shelter you have is the people that you love.  
  
Squeezing tightly once more, Hermione released him from her hold. She leaned forward, kissing him softly and sorrowfully on the lips.  
  
"How did we even get into this?" She asked, eyes closed, as she leaned gently into him.  
  
"I don't know..." he offered lamely, closing his own eyes. "I guess it couldn't be helped."  
  
"No," Hermione agreed. "I guess it couldn't."  
  
There was another moment of silence.  
  
"We won't make it out alive," She spoke up quietly. Another fact. Another cold hard fact.  
  
"I know," Ron admitted sadly, pulling her closer to him. He smiled and wiped the tears from her cheek, ignoring his own. "But at least we'll die together."  
  
She nodded at this, but could still feel Ron's uneasiness. "For what it's worth," she spoke quietly, in an attempt to comfort them both, "I'm happy that this is where I ended up...I'm happy that I choose to be a witch...and I'm happy that I met you."  
  
He smiled as his tears continued to pour.  
  
"So am I."  
  
-  
  
"Neville," Hermione said once the group had been reassembled. The boy's ears perked up immediately as he shifted his focus from Lavender to Hermione. "The Death Eaters are gathering just south of the Forbidden Forest. I want you to lead the group there tomorrow. Spend the night here; try to fix up Seamus's leg. Ron and I are going to find Harry."  
  
"What?!" Lavender squeaked. "You've got to be kidding!"  
  
"That's insane Hermione," Seamus said, confident he could convince her otherwise. "You'll never make it alive."  
  
"We don't have a choice," she said. "We have to save Harry."  
  
"Hermione," Neville spoke gently. "We don't even know if Harry's still alive."  
  
Ron stepped forward, determination clear on his face. "Look guys, Harry's our only hope. He's the only one who can defeat Voldemort. He's our last chance. So we'll find him, or we'll die trying."  
  
This silenced the group for a second before Seamus spoke up. "Well, you won't go by yourselves. Harry's our friend, our housemate, as well. We're going with you." Neville and Lavender nodded in agreement.  
  
"No, you aren't," Hermione said bluntly. "If we don't succeed, someone needs to keep fighting. Someone has to keep fighting, or else all hope is lost." She looked at them each sincerely, asking them a final favor. "Please, don't argue. This is for the best."  
  
"It's suicide," Lavender whispered as she began to cry.  
  
"Yeah," Ron admitted, "But it's what we have to do."  
  
Seamus nodded as finally, he understood. "If anyone could do make it there, it would be you two. Good luck. Maybe somehow, we'll see each other again." He limped slowly over to Hermione and Ron and gave each a tight hug.  
  
Lavender, who was still crying, wiped her eyes on her long sleeve and followed in Seamus's suit, hugging each while she continued to bawl. "Goodbye," she whimpered in between tears. "Goodbye."  
  
Neville came last, trying hard to hide his own tears. He wasn't sure what he could say. This would surely be the last time he saw his two friends alive. What could he possibly say to sum up all they'd been to him in seven years? How could he help when their fate was sealed? "We'll keep fighting," he promised. "We'll keep fighting, no matter what." He had never been very good with words...but he had finally chosen the right ones. He hugged them both tightly and fought to let them go.  
  
"Thank you, Neville," she smiled weakly, his words giving her the reassurance she needed. The war was not over. If they died, it would not be for nothing. She cast her eyes over the entire group and addressed them one last time. "Good luck to all of you, and be careful. You're all this world has left." She looked at Ron, who nodded, and she took his hand in hers.  
  
The group watched as the two friends turned and began walking to their doom. They had lived, they had fought, and now they would die. Neville spoke up faintly, with the only words that would come,  
  
"And these were the noblest Romans of them all."  
  
Fin.  
  
AN: Well, that's all everyone! Hope you liked it :) Neville's last line was a play off of Antony's line in Julius Caesar in which Antony says "He was the noblest Roman of them all" after Brutus's death. I usually try to keep "outside sources" out of my fanfics but while I was ending this, I just couldn't get that quote out of my head, so I decided I should just put it in Anyway, once again, I hope you enjoyed reading it. Reviews are always appreciated!  
  
Best wishes, warmest regards, and lots of love, Soragirl  
  
"Have you hugged an author today? Write a review and make ones day." 


End file.
